The Chamber of Secrets Dark Secrets Indeed
by necrosluzz
Summary: Harry is disturbed by hissing, disembodied voices. He fears for what he might do to hurt his friends. Meanwhile, Snape is up to his usual tricks, however much more depraved than ever before. This is a dark tale of what might alternatively happen in the Chamber of Secrets..something which may change and shape the three friends relationship forever.


This is my first fan fic, so REVIEWS would be super duper awesome. Please note before you read this this content may offend, blah, blah. It's pretty depraved, hence the title. This fanfic was inspired by Fanfiction Fridays so you might have an idea of where this is going.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

****Harry Potter and the Chamber of Depravity****

Snape carefully combed out his springy, coarse pubic hair and then meticulously inspected the teeth, turning it this way and that. Finding a greasy hair ball on the outer side of the comb, he pulled it out and placed it in a small jar for later use. He then brought the comb to his nose and breathed in deeply, revelling in the salty, musky smell. He imagined forcing the comb up to Potters nose, forcing him to take in the odour of his sweaty genitals, and he let out a shaky breath, letting the fantasy course through his bloodstream. His breathing quickened, and his callused hand fumbled for his trousers, freeing his erection. He grasped it and began to smooth his hand over his length, imagining the boys discomfort. Faster and faster he pumped his member until he clenched with with a gasp – before he could spill his precious seed he groped for a nearby flagon and feverishly ejaculated into its depths. Drawing in a shaky breath, he wiped the spittle suspended from his quivering lips as well as a congealed glob of saliva sliding down his rough chin. He grasped the flagon and surveyed the contents. Excellent, he mused, contemptuously. His Potions class, which was due to start in ten minutes, was in for a surprise. Well, the Gryffindors were. He started to mete out the ingredients needed for the lesson. His long awaited fantasy was about to come to fruition as he carefully mixed his hoarded pubic hairs in with the fairy moss and poured out portions of his harvested semen into the unicorn blood.

After Potions, Hermione could not for the life of her figure out why her draught did not turn the exact shade of lilac it was supposed to, or how she had misjudged the potency so badly. All she could think about was the self satisfied smirk on Snapes face as he judged her potion to be meagre at best. She furiously hoisted her overloaded bag onto her shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you almost knocked over those first years..it's not the end of the world you know, to not get top marks in something for the first time in your life," Ron grumbled.

"I'm telling you, I did everything exactly as I was supposed to Ron!" Hermione answered shrilly.

"I just don't understand it, I followed the books instructions to the letter...ouff!"

She almost barrelled into Harry who had suddenly stopped still in the middle of the corridor with a queer look on his face.

"Harry? What's wrong..?"

"Bloody hell mate!"

Harry's face seemed curiously slack and dreamy, immediately causing Hermione to feel alarm.

"Harry..?"

"Do you guys..hear that..?" he mumbled. His arms swung loosley at his sides, and his head seemed cocked at the stone wall.

"Earth to Harry! Snap out of it mate, we're going to be late for Charms!"

"Oh..yeah..um..right!" Harry recovered with a forced grin, and started pacing towards the stairs,leaving Hermione staring after him worriedly.

Later that night, Harry tossed and turned in his bedsheets, remembering the unsettling voice he had heard seeping from the stones in the corridor. It was faint, furtive whispers he had heard, but it was more the content than the occurrence which had disturbed him so badly. Living at Hogwarts he had come to accept the bizarre and extraordinary as everyday fare, but what he had heard today had left him extremely shaken. What disturbed him even more was the unfamiliar feeling of sick arousal it stirred in him. The whisper, more a hiss, really, now that he came to think of it, was urging someone, maybe even him, to give into his most base urges.

"_Take her...penetrate her..feel her screams vibrate through her skin..lick her..hurt her..oh yesss.."_

With a shudder, he threw off his duvet, resisting the compulsion to slide his hands into his pyjama pants and fully realise the sinister stirrings in his navel. He made his way down to the Gryffindor common room and sat staring moodily into the fireplace until sunrise.

"Harry! What's with you mate, I've never seen you turn down a plate of bacon" Ron frowned as he stared into his friends pale, distracted face at breakfast.

"Didn't get much sleep last night," Harry grunted, avoiding Hermiones concerned stare. He remembered the sickening urges he had felt last night, and how Hermione had been at the centre of them. As he had stared into the lazy, dancing flames, he had imagined pulling her hair back roughly so her neck was taught and bare, illiciting animal moans of pain. All the while the hissing voice had been wheedling, seducing, persuading him to undress her, and to dig his nails into her flesh. He had shaken his head, grasped at it in an attempt to save his best friend from the clutches of his imagination.

"Are you sure you're alright Harry..? This hasn't got anything to do with you stopping in the corridor yesterday so suddenly, is it?" Hermione asked, shrewdly.

"Leave off, Hermione," Harry answered roughly. "I'm just tired, is all." He grabbed his satchel and abruptly started toward the Great Hall doors, forgetting he was heading for class a whole fifteen minutes early.


End file.
